


How He'd Hold Me

by The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff



Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [4]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst Wank, Angst and Porn, Baz is REALLY in his feelings but what else is new tbh, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown 2019, DEC 05 - Angst, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Book 2: Wayward Son, Sexual Fantasy, Spoilers for Book 2: Wayward Son, just gonna come right out & say it, so what if I posted a shower wank last week, this one is better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21667954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff/pseuds/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff
Summary: Simon's becoming more distant, & Baz is desperate to hold on, even if only in his head.Set at least six months pre-WS.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557748
Comments: 30
Kudos: 144
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	How He'd Hold Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Carry On Countdown 2019 - Angst

**BAZ**

I’m not crying yet.

I thought I would be by now, surely, but the tears haven’t come. 

I’m angry, mostly. And frustrated. More frustrated than angry, really, now it comes down to it. Now I’ve had a little distance, a little time to think.

I’m not sure what happened tonight. All I know is that I’ve done _something_ to set Simon off, and now I’m back at Fiona’s alone. 

I thought things were going to be okay tonight. I thought…

Well. I thought Simon and I were headed towards something, I suppose. 

We were together tonight, alone. He took me into his bedroom, pressed me up against the door as it closed. He kissed me so hard, it reminded me of our time together in Hampshire. Those desperate, lovely nights we spent together in my room before everything went to complete shit. 

He kissed me so hard, I thought for a moment that he might be coming back to me. 

He had his hands in my hair, and then at my waist, and then in the back pockets of my jeans, pressing me closer to him. _Pulling_ me to him. It was so _heady,_ and I took it all. I wanted it, and I wanted _more,_ and when he pulled our hips flush and I felt him hard against me, well…

It wasn’t the first time. But it was the first time I thought that maybe, _maybe_ we were finally going to jump off the edge. Be together. Be _together,_ really. 

Maybe he’d finally let me in. 

Our breath was shaking together, and Simon was kissing me, and we were both hard, and I thought…

His mouth was killing everything I was trying to think. 

I took him by his hips and pulled him to me, too, just like he did me.

And that's when he stopped it all. 

Stopped kissing me. Stopped _touching_ me entirely. 

He just...stopped. The fire behind his eyes went out.

" _Simon_ —"

His features turned irritable. Angry, almost. He looked like he used to, when he was about to go off, and he was tugging at his hair…

" _How can you expect me to do this?_ " he asked. _Snapped._

I don't know what he wants from me. All I know is that he didn't want me there with him tonight. He usually doesn't, anymore. And…

I don't know. 

I need to have a shower. I need time to _think._ Or not to think. Perhaps that would be better, really.

I'd call him, if I thought he wanted me to. I could call him and try to talk to him…

" _You're pushing me,"_ he said…

Pushing him's the last thing I want to do. But he won't tell me what he _wants_.

If he can't tell me what he wants, I can't give it to him. Maybe he doesn't want _me_ to give him anything at all…

I turn the tap to scalding and shuck my clothes. I let them drop to the floor in a puddle.

My eyes fall closed as I step beneath the water. At least the steam and the hot stream are some small comfort.

I wonder what Simon’s doing now.

It’s late. I can hope that maybe he went to bed. I can hope that he’s not sat on his sofa trying to numb himself with a pack of cider…

Or maybe…

I think of him alone in his bed, joggers pushed down around his thighs, a growl falling from his lips as he spills over his fist and onto his belly…

Because I'm disturbed.

Still, I can't help the pooling of heat in my belly at the thought of him getting himself off. We could've done that together tonight. I thought he _wanted_ to. It _felt_ like he did as he pushed himself against me…

I let the hot water beat down on my shoulders as I run my hands through my hair, getting it damp. I tug on it a bit at the ends…

And then I can feel Simon brushing _his_ fingers through my hair while his other hand smooths down along my waist, my hip. 

Simon.

_Simon..._

I can't deny the burning twitch in my cock as I think of it, of him in here with me, his ridiculous, glorious curls wet and plastered to his forehead. Naked. Hard. Crowding up against me from behind and pressing that sad, beautiful mouth into the junction of my neck and shoulder. The thought alone makes me shiver. It makes me _ache,_ too, but I need a way to shelve that for now. Maybe take a leaf out of Simon's book and _try not to think about it._

Simon, _Simon. My_ Simon. How I _wish_ he were mine, in all the ways one person can truly be another's. 

No, no, _no._ That thought is for later. Not _now._

Right now, Simon's here with me. _Naked_ with me, his warm mouth trailing open-mouthed kisses over my shoulders, his arms wrapped tightly around me, every inch of him pressed up against my back, his cock folded hard between my arse and his belly.

That damnable devil's tail coiling down my thigh and calf.

I wonder how he'd hold me, if we actually did this. How he'd touch me. How I'd touch him. (I _want_ to touch him, and sometimes— _most_ of the time, now—I feel like this is the only safe place to do so. Here, in my head.)

It's familiar, really. That's the only place I _could_ touch him, for the longest time.

I’m reminded of myself at fifteen, sixteen, furiously trying to get myself off in the only place I had any semblance of peace—our shower. Furiously trying to get myself off, furiously trying to rid myself of my feelings for him…

I didn’t think it’d still be like this, after we got together. I never imagined I’d still be furiously getting myself off to thoughts of Simon Snow as our relationship sits stagnant. I thought…

Well, I thought maybe he just needed more time, more space, more _something._

Maybe that something just isn’t me.

“ _How can you expect me to do this_?” That’s what he said to me tonight, before I left his flat.

I don’t know what he _wants._ And if I don’t know what he wants, how am I supposed to give it to him?

 _Stop,_ I think. _Stop thinking about_ that. _Just_ feel, _now._

I feel…hollow. Can you feel simultaneously empty and like everything hurts? To feel everything and nothing at the same time?

And still there’s this unrelenting _need_ between my legs, this burning need to come, to just get some fucking _relief…_

I should be ashamed. I _will_ be ashamed, later. But for now I can imagine Simon, a _happier_ Simon, a Simon who still wants _this._ I can imagine him pressing against my back, the water running hot over the pair of us, streaming and pooling between our bodies. I can imagine him palming my jaw and turning my face to reach for my lips with his.

I can imagine him kissing me.

How long has it been since he kissed me? Since I kissed him? _Tonight,_ maybe, but it isn't the same anymore.

It's not been the same for a while.

I’m not sure if it makes it better or worse, knowing how it _feels_ to kiss Simon Snow. Worse, I think, now I know what I’m missing. 

I push the thought away for now. I _have_ to. 

I think about Simon kissing me instead, _wanting_ to kiss me. Kissing me the way he used to, like he _wanted_ to. Like he wanted me…

And when I trail one hand down my stomach, I imagine it’s his, that his warm fingertips are burning into my skin, ghosting over the line of black hair on my lower belly, brushing along the length of my cock until he’s wrapped his hand firmly around it. 

My breath comes shaking through my nose as I think about it, about Simon stroking me, about Simon _hard_ for me. About him kissing me, and nuzzling his face into my neck to graze his teeth against my skin. (Funny, that. A vampire whose knees turn to water when his neck is kissed. It's been some time since he...)

He tightens one arm around my waist and hugs me closer to him, and I can almost feel it. I can almost feel the heat of him, the hardness of him, the soft press of his belly against my back. _Almost._

I whimper when I swipe my thumb along my crown—no, when _Simon_ does. There's already precome beading there, and I whimper again as it spreads beneath my thumb. 

I think about Simon, about all the things we could do together. I'd do anything, I think, just to touch him like this. To feel him coming apart beneath my touch. 

I palm at my bollocks as I think about his lips at my neck, as I think about him reaching back with one hand to position himself, as I imagine him pushing forward, his cock sliding hot and wet between my thighs. I'd let him do this, if he were here with me. I'd _want_ it. I _have_ wanted it, to let him take his pleasure from my body. To _give_ it to him. 

I'm not sure we'd be able to do this perfectly, if it were real. Simon's shorter than I am, stouter. I'm not sure he'd be able to reach, if his cock could slide so close to where I want him, if he'd be able to brush the cleft of my arse with each desperate thrust…

It's happening perfectly in my mind, though. 

He goes slow at first, his hips rocking back and forth against me, his tongue sliding warm and wet against mine inside my mouth. 

He touches me the way he used to, like he isn't afraid of me. Like he wants this. Wants _me._

" _I thought you wanted this_."

" _It's just a lot. You're pushing me…"_

 _Am_ I pushing him? I don't know that I am. I don't know what I _did…_

I shake my head and will myself to leave it alone. To think about it later, to find the answers some other time…

I don't know that he's willing to give me the answers.

I don't know if _he_ knows the answers.

In my mind, we don't _have_ questions to answer. It's just the two of us here, alone. _Together._ Love. Longing. _Love._

He doesn't know how much I love him…

In my mind, he does. It's there, tangible, _palpable._ I can feel it as it pulses through the both of us, as it _surrounds_ us. As he gives me everything he is in a kiss. As I give him everything I am back. 

I try to push the shame away as I reach behind myself to brush against my rim with my fingertips. I don't know how it'd really feel to have Simon touch me there, but this is the closest I have. Heat licks through my core all the same as I try to mimic his imagined motions with my hand. It's good, and he's _mine,_ and I'm starting to shake with the pleasure of it.

" _It's just too much…_ "

 _What,_ Simon?

Simon Snow, I'd give you anything. _Everything._ There wasn't a day when I believed we'd both live through it. There was a time when I thought I'd end up giving you my life, and I'd've done it gladly…

I'd give you my life still, if you wanted it.

I don't know what sort of monster I am, fucking myself in my shower while Simon suffers alone at his flat. White hot pleasure still burning through me as I near the edge...

" _You're not a monster…_ "

He wanted me, then. He kissed me in the middle of a blazing inferno.

" _I've never turned my back on you. And I'm not starting now._ "

My eyes are burning, so I squeeze them shut tighter. It makes me see stars behind my eyelids.

And Simon. _Simon._

Blue eyes closed in pleasure. Bronze curls dripping with hot water. Lips hanging open as he nuzzles the side of his face into mine from behind…

He curls his hands around my biceps and pulls them back gently, _gently._

 _"Can you come without touching yourself, love_?" he asks, and I think I can. I think I _can,_ with him breathing hot against my neck, with him panting and groaning as his cock slips back and forth between my thighs. The delicious friction each time his crown grazes the sensitive flesh of my rim and just behind my bollocks...

I'm panting now, too, aloud and in my mind, and I'm wondering—not for the first time—what Simon Snow looks like when he comes. The thought alone sends a wave of pleasure through me even as an insatiable ache tears through my chest.

I pretend like I'll get to know, someday. I can still hold on to a little bit of _hope._

Simon's grip on my arms tightens, just a bit, just enough for me to know he's close. I press my thighs together for him, give him that last bit of pressure he needs to tip him over the edge...

He's thrusting into me harder, desperate as he finds my mouth with his. The tension in my belly's building, building, _building_ as he rocks against me, as we rock _together_ , as we moan into each other's mouths. His wings are spread wide—there's room enough for them, inside my mind—his tail thrashing madly, thumping against the shower walls—

His growl tumbles down my throat as his hips stutter against my body, his come pulsing hot between my thighs—

And then I'm coming, too, cool and sweet and _fuck,_ how it _hurts_ , pained relief rolling through my body as I spill over my own fist, choking on a moan...

My eyes are still closed as I lean back against the shower wall. It's cold, but the Simon in my head is still pressed warm against my back, his belly heaving as he comes down from his high.

And in my ear he says, " _I love you_."

And that's when I gasp as I start to cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my friend Icarus for drawing [this art](https://icarus-n-flames.tumblr.com/post/189184200887/oh-heyso-i-finished-a-thing-this-is-a-bit-of) to keep me motivated as I wrote this. A++, please give them a follow. <3
> 
> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thehoneyedhufflepuff) I'm a disaster over there.


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